


the look of love, the rush of blood

by mysterious_minds



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bakery AU, M/M, Mentions of past self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterious_minds/pseuds/mysterious_minds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry owns a bakery, and Louis is actual sunshine. Also, Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the look of love, the rush of blood

**Author's Note:**

> guess who finally finished her first christmas fic (the answer is me)
> 
> title from no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys
> 
> do not read if triggered by mentions of past-self harm, past suicide attempts, mentions of insomnia, or implied abuse. 
> 
> i suggest heading over to 8tracks at mysterious_minds and listening to "baby, it's cold outside" while reading this ;)

 

Harry unlocked the door slowly, his hands shaking from the November cold. The warm comfort of the bakery greeted him, welcoming him into its arms. The bakery was always more of a home to him than his flat, which was stiff and impersonal, the normal signs of human life practically non-existent, due to the fact he didn’t sleep there much. Didn’t sleep much at all, really.

He didn’t turn the open/closed sign over yet, waiting for the bread he put in the ovens to heat up a bit. He iced some cookies absently while he waited, not paying attention to making any formal designs. It would be Christmas soon, he thought, he should have some cookies looking like Christmas trees if he had the time.

His bakery was small and old, but it was his. It had scratched wood floors that he cleaned every Sunday, big, open windows, thick red curtains, and various paintings that his friend Zayn had done on the walls. He didn’t see Zayn much lately, he should pay him a visit soon, he thought.

He turned his iPod on, trying to get a little more awake than he was. That was the problem, he supposed, with being an insomniac. You were always so, so tired and yet unable to sleep, unable to close your eyes and rest for just a bit.

He needed to hire someone else to help him. He couldn’t be here all the time, take his classes online, and not sleep at the same time. It was taking its toll on him, in the form of heavy bags under his eyes and heavy weight on his heart.

It was still a bit dark outside, the sky a dark blue, the stars fading. This was his favorite time of day; everything was peaceful, beautiful. London hadn’t woken up yet.

He heard the bell hanging on the door ring, and he headed out towards the front, wondering who would be awake at this time (he was, but that was beside the point).

“Hello?” called out a scratchy, lilting voice. “The sign didn’t say open but the lights were on so I figured…”

Harry saw the man, and it was like the world stopped for just a second.

He was quite possibly the most gorgeous person he had ever seen, male or female. His eyes were the color of the sky in the summer, clear and bright and clean. His hair was flopping over his forehead, and his chin was scruffy, giving off a rugged look. He had a tan leather messenger bag over his shoulder, stuffed to the brim with books spilling out and corners of papers sticking out.

“Hi,” Harry breathed out, “yeah, you can stay. I was going to open soon anyway.”

The man visibly relaxed. “Thanks. I needed a place to study…”  He studied Harry’s name badge. “Harry.”

“No problem. Do you want something to eat or drink?”

The man looked up at the menu on the wall above Harry’s head. “Um. Some coffee cake, I guess, and a mug of tea. Black. No sugar or milk.”

“Coming right up. Name?”

The man grinned, all eye crinkles and baby fangs. “Louis.”

~

Louis came back.

He came back a lot, actually. Every morning, reliably, except for Sundays, and left every day at noon. That was okay with Harry. He didn’t feel very cute when he waxed the floors on Sundays, and since Louis was very, very, _very_ cute, he didn’t want to feel anything less than that around him.

He asked for the same thing every day, until Harry pointed out that it was two weeks from Christmas and maybe he wanted something peppermint flavored?

Louis just smiled (a sunny, shiny smile) and said whatever Harry would give him would be fine. He’d always try to pay Harry, but Harry refused. “Your company is enough,” he would say. 

Louis would only blush and go back to studying, saying, “You’re too sweet for me, Curly.”

Harry thought maybe he’d like to hear Louis call him that more.

Sometimes he would wear his glasses, thin black frames that somehow made him cuter. Harry liked those days best, because he could tell Louis didn’t care what he looked like, he still wanted to get up early and come see Harry.

The only problem was that Louis was _nosy_ , but he was nosy in the most adorable way that Harry forgave him almost instantly for prying into something he didn’t want pried into.

It was about mid-November, and Harry was milling about the counter, serving people who came in while Louis worked in the corner booth. A woman stepped in, appearing visibly distraught and shaken.

“Ma’am? Are your alright?” Harry asked, concerned. She shook her head no. “Did someone hurt you?” he asked, softer. She nodded yes, a few sobs escaping her mouth. “I can call the police for you, love.”

“That would be great, thanks,” she said, her voice trembling. Suddenly, a man burst in, looking at the women and making an animalistic noise. “Come back here,” he snarled.

Harry turned to Louis in the corner, giving him a look he understood completely: _call the police now._

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from her,” Harry said firmly, stepping out from behind the counter, quickly motioning at the woman to stand behind him.

“And what is a pathetic little boy like you gonna do to keep me from my girlfriend?” The man said, getting into Harry’s face, practically spitting his words out. He pulled his fist back and aimed for Harry’s face, but Harry caught it before it hit his face. He twisted the man’s arm back, causing him to howl in pain, and kneed him in the groin, then the stomach, sufficiently incapacitating the man.

“Can you go behind the counter please?” Harry asked the women politely. The police ran into the shop, seeing the man on the ground and Harry standing above him, looking on ahead with a stoic expression on his face. The questioned all of them. Harry noticed the woman getting uncomfortable, and put a cautious arm around her, which she sank into gratefully. He whispered calming words to her while answering the police’s questions.

She left after the police did, but not before Harry gave her some free cookies to “make her feel better, I know cookies always make me feel better”. She thanked him and Louis profusely, saying that she should be thanking them for all they’d done.

Harry just waved her off. “Just being a decent human being, love.” She left, leaving just Harry cleaning the counters, and Louis staring at him in awe.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked.

“Do what?" 

“Y’know. Defend yourself like that.”

Harry stopped cleaning the counters for a second, before shaking his head and returning to cleaning. “My mum…she, uh, thought they would be good for me. When I was younger.”

“Good how?”

Harry sighed deeply; thinking it over for a second, then began to roll back the sleeves of his sweater. “Harry what are you—“ He cut himself off with a gasp.

All up and down his arm were thin, raised white lines, criss-crossing one another. Some were still pinkish, as though they’d only recently healed.

“I started self-harming when I was 14,” Harry said quietly. “It was the day the boys on the footie team started hitting me and—um--it got worse when I came out as bisexual. I lost almost all of my friends, except my friend Liam. He, uh, actually told me about this place when I moved here for uni. Remembered that I worked in a bakery at home.”

He took a deep breath. “I tried to kill myself when I was 16. I slit my wrists,” he motioned towards the most prominent scars, at the very top of his wrists, “And waited. Mum found me only just in time. The doctors said if she’d found me only 10 minutes later I wouldn’t be here.”

“It took a long time for me to get better. I’ve been clean for two years now. And, um, I’m telling you this because…I’m still a bit not okay, and you’re just, you’re sunshine, you know that? You’re like the sun gave part of itself away and was made into a person. And you just, you make me so happy. I feel happier than I’ve been in awhile. I’m lonely, so lonely, and you make me less lonely, and I just…” He smiles. “I just really like you, that’s all.”

Louis was in tears. “C’mere you,” he said, his voice cracking as he got up and pulled Harry into a hug. “God, I’m so proud of you.”

Harry rubbed his back soothingly. “Hey, it’s ok. I’m still here. I’m here.”

~

About a week before Christmas, Louis mentioned that his birthday was in fact Christmas Eve. Harry asked if he should get Louis a present.

“Your company is enough,” he said with a smile, echoing Harry’s earlier words. Harry still insisted on getting him a present.

~

Harry was still in his bakery on Christmas Eve, planning on going to Cheshire later that night. He felt guilty about not having gone earlier, but his shop was his home more than Cheshire ever really was.

He had Louis’ birthday present with him at the shop, even though he knew that Louis was at his home, somewhere north. He was rather proud of himself for having picked it out. That was his favorite part about Christmas; getting to buy people presents and see the looks on their faces when they open them.

He was pondering this as he was icing trees onto cookies when Louis burst in through the door, stifling sobs and his stuff flying everywhere, landing in a scattered heap on the floor.

“Louis?” Harry said worriedly.

Louis just stared at him, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth, trying to not let his sobs escape his mouth.

Harry smiled sadly, and went around the counter, wrapping Louis up in a hug. “C’mere honey, what’s the matter?”

Louis just buried his head into Harry’s chest; wetting his shirt with tears and making unintelligible noises that Harry assumed were meant to be words. “Lovely, can you take a deep breath for me and try talking again?”

Louis nodded, taking in a breath and letting it out shakily. “Hi.” Harry giggled, coaxing a tiny smile out of Louis. “I’m okay.”

“No you’re not. I know that kind of ‘I’m okay’. It means you’re not really okay. What’s wrong?”

Louis rubbed his hands over his face. “I went to the train station to grab a train home, right? I’m just about to purchase a ticket when my mum calls me and—“ He choked himself off, a new round of sobs beginning. “S-she told me she was getting divorced again and I was so close with my step-dad and I don’t want to go home and I don’t want to see the looks on my sisters’ faces when they hear the news and it’s Christmas and it’s _my birthday_ the least they could do is wait—“

“Sh, sh, it’s alright. It’s okay. You’re okay. Let it out, sweetheart.” Louis nodded, allowing himself to be pulled back into Harry’s arms. Harry picked him up abruptly, startling a squeak out of Louis and going over to flip the open sign over to closed. He walked over to one of the chairs and sat down, allowing Louis to curl up in his lap and cry.

His sobs subsided after awhile, graduating into little hiccups and sniffling. “Louis? Do you want your birthday present now? It might cheer you up.” He nodded. “Okay, let me get up and go get it.”

He nodded again, sliding off Harry and onto his feet.

Harry retrieved the present from the back of the bakery. It was wrapped in cute wrapping paper with a little bow in the corner.

He handed it to Louis. “Even has a little bow on it. Wrapped it myself.”

Louis laughed weakly before gently tearing off the wrapping paper. He opened the box and gasped. “Harry, this is beautiful.” It was a new leather bag, tan and ready to be used.

“I remembered you were complaining about yours falling apart.”

“Harry, it’s wonderful, really.” He looked up from the box and met Harry’s eyes. “You’re wonderful.”

Harry blushed and looked down. “I’m not that wonderful.” He felt a hand tilt his chin up.

“Hey. You are wonderful.” Louis’ gaze darted down to Harry’s lips, and he leaned in slowly. “I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay,” he murmured. Harry flicked his gaze down to Louis’ lips and leaned in, connecting their lips.

It was slow and tender; the music crooned in the background as two lips met in what felt to be the first time and yet was so familiar, so comforting. Louis tasted like black tea and sunshine. Harry tasted like coffee and snow.

Louis’ hand came up to cup Harry’s face, bringing him in impossibly closer, running his tongue across Harry’s bottom lip. The kiss deepened, until they both needed air, pulling away and resting their foreheads on each others’.

“So,” Louis said.

“So.”

“I liked kissing you.”

“I liked kissing you too.”

“I think we should make it a regular thing.”

“With dates and exclusiveness too?”

“Of course.”

“I’d love to.”

“Me, as well.”

A laugh escaped, neither boy sure who had made it. “Merry Christmas,” Harry whispered.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.”

**Author's Note:**

> frick this was lame
> 
> find me on tumblr at grizzlybairparty


End file.
